


Alistair - Tentacles

by TheBearMuse



Series: Avalon Aeducan [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-22
Updated: 2013-09-22
Packaged: 2017-12-27 08:25:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/976609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBearMuse/pseuds/TheBearMuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alistair Theirin and Avalon Aeducan face the dreaded broodmother with the help of Zevran Arainai and Lancelot the mabari.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alistair - Tentacles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fashionmodelbucky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fashionmodelbucky/gifts).



> Part of my two word prompt series of drabbles. Prompted by NaViaLernoVictoria. Secondary theme "no wiggle room" prompted by blackzabeth.

When Alistair Theirin became a Grey Warden, he thought the most disgusting things he was ever going to see in his life were the darkspawn. Especially when they were eating. The blobby mass writhing in front of him proved that he was very, very wrong.

The fleshy creature towered several stories above them, its body made up of malformed sets of...bosoms. He felt himself blush at the word despite the seriousness of the situation. A hideous deformed face and two stubby arms sat limp at the top of the stack as the monster dozed. A broodmother, the broken dwarf Hespith had called her.

Alistair understood now why Duncan had not told him. There was nothing remotely dwarven left in this...thing. It seemed impossible that it had once been a woman. Without seeing it, he would never have believed it. Never would have wanted to.

He glanced over at his fellow Warden, who was herself a dwarf. Avalon Aeducan stared up at the broodmother, her bright green eyes containing a pain that he could not pretend to fathom. She had been left in the Deep Roads to die at the hands of the darkspawn. Had she not found Duncan, this could have been her fate. Alistair wished he could offer some sort of comfort, but words failed him.

The bronze-skinned elven assassin took a step in front of Avalon as though to shield her. Alistair frowned. What game was the elf playing at now? Her mail was better able to withstand hits than the assassin's light leather. He must be looking for another chance, he thought wildly. Alistair did not understand why Avalon trusted the assassin sent to kill them. He had tried to kill them! Nothing Alistair had said had swayed Avalon to change her mind, so he had done his best to protect her from further assassination attempts. That had led to an awkward confrontation when she had first taken the elf into her tent - and his own subsequent banishment to the opposite side of the camp. That made his nighttime watch considerably more complicated, but he persisted. No matter how awkward it was trying to block out the things he should not hear while listening for attempts on Avalon's life, Alistair had a duty to her. Sometimes she felt like the only family he had left - and in many ways, she was.

A rumbling moan from the creature awakening across the chamber snapped Alistair back to the present. Right. Broodmother. He raised his eyebrows at Avalon to signal that he was ready. She set her jaw and nodded.

He charged in, Zevran and the mabari Lancelot at his heels. Avalon stayed back to fire her arrows at range. Alistair thrust his sword deep into the flesh of the broodmother with a yell to attract her attention.

Suddenly, the entire world was filled with tentacles.

They shot up from the ground, flailing about wildly, trying to grab Alistair and his companions. He dodged as best he could in his heavy plate, attempting to draw all of the tentacles to himself.

It worked - all too well.

The tentacles converged on Alistair, lashing his arms against his sides and leaving him no room to wiggle out. As they lifted him up for the broodmother to punch him, he saw Avalon struggling with her own set of tentacles. Then he couldn't see anything as a large tentacle wrapped itself around his helmet, squeezing his head like a melon. Smaller tentacles snaked through the more vulnerable spots in his armor. The stench was unbearable. Alistair jerked about wildly. He refused to drown in the most foul-smelling liquid he'd ever had the displeasure of encountering.

The broodmother screamed in pain. The tentacles holding him fast loosened and Alistair fell to the ground. As he staggered to his feet, he winced at the bruises already forming on his left side. That was going to leave a mark. He shook his head to clear it.

Lancelot was biting furiously at the last of the tentacles holding Avalon captive. Moments later, she too fell to the ground. Alistair frowned. But where was -

Zevran let out a bloodcurdling battle cry as he burst out of the fallen tentacles behind Alistair and launched himself at the broodmother. New tentacles burst out of the ground and grabbed at the elf as he climbed the blubbery hulk, but he was too fast for them. The assassin sank his daggers deep into the broodmother's eyes, black blood spurting everywhere. Avalon, who had regained her footing, pulled Alistair away from the worst of the toxic fluid. His muscles screamed in protest as they both fell back to the ground.

The scream died and the broodmother's corpse slumped forward. The elf jumped down next to them, landing lightly on his feet. Lancelot immediately bounded over to him and started licking his face.

"Well, that was invigorating," quipped Zevran as he extended a hand to Avalon to help her up. "Shall we move on?"

The look she gave him was withering. "I think we need a moment, Zev."

He laughed, tossing his golden hair as he did so. It gleamed, even in the poor lighting of the chamber. Alistair choked down the urge to vomit as the elf helped him to his feet. "I understand, my dear Warden. You have been through quite the ordeal. Allow me to check you for injuries."

Avalon raised a hand to stop him, much to Alistair's relief. Seeing his friend get felt up in the presence of that gigantic stinking corpse would have been too much. "It's okay, Zev. We're okay. We just need to catch our breath."

Zevran gave her a grin and a wink, and patted Alistair on the back before turning to run with Lancelot across the chamber. Avalon watched him go, then turned to Alistair. "Are you okay?"

"Let's see, we're in the middle of the Dead Trenches with a broodmother corpse that smells worse than Lady Isolde's musk of dead rats. I am definitely very far away from okay." The words were out of his mouth before he could think and he instantly regretted them. "I'm sorry, I think I landed on my head."

Avalon gave him a wry grin. "So no damage done then?"

"Oh ouch, now I'm wounded!" he quipped back with a grin of his own. "But no, I'm all right. A few bruises and my armor smells more rank than usual, but otherwise fine." He paused and gazed at her seriously. "Are you really okay?"

She nodded. "You fell a lot further than I did."

"And the...thing?" He waved vaguely at the broodmother.

Avalon's expression darkened. "I have words for Branka when we find her. She has much to answer for."

Alistair wasn't sure what to say to that, but was saved from answering by Lancelot barking, closely followed by a burst of laughter from the elf. "Do you really trust him?" he asked her for the hundredth time.

"I do," she said, gazing at the assassin with a softer look in her eyes. "There's a certain....honesty about him, despite what he's been through." She turned back to Alistair and smiled. "Lighten up a little. He did just help save our lives, you know."

He watched her as she returned to her lover's side. She did make a good point. It would have been very easy for the assassin to let them die if he still wanted to kill them. And yet, there was still something about him that Alistair didn't like. _I'm watching you, elf_ , he thought as he moved to follow them.


End file.
